Chats Over Cinnamon
by Roxanne Beaumont
Summary: It's a slow night in Storybrooke, and Graham decides to take his deputy out for hot chocolate. In the process, Emma reveals a little-known story about herself.


_For Marisol_

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Graham had finished with the night patrol as he pulled up to the police station. It was another peaceful, chilly, fall night. Storybrooke was safe. As he stepped out of the cruiser, freezing wind whipped around him. He popped the collar of his leather jacket to shield himself from the cold. Graham sprinted the short distance to the front door, eager to escape.

He made his way down the main offices, where Emma was in her chair, feet propped up on her desk. She read a novel in her lap, silent. Stacks of files were neatly sorted on his desk; one of her tasks she had to do while he was out. Graham smiled at the sight. Usually, he and Emma would be exchanging witty banter back and forth, plus the occasional eye roll. He liked this, when the station was quiet. He studied her. The way her blonde hair curled around her like a halo, her toned arms hugged by the sweater she was wearing. Beautiful. He walked over to his desk, and plopped down on his chair. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it over the side of his chair.

Emma noticed his presence. She looked up and said, "Back so soon?"

Graham shrugged. "You know how it is; the town's always nice and quiet."

Emma nodded, and glanced at the window as the gusting wind shook the branches of trees. "Must be a chilly night out, huh?"

"That it is," Graham replied. He thought for a moment. "Since it's a slow night, would you like to join me at Granny's? Get some hot cocoa?"

Emma considered this, wondering if it was a date. She decided to humor him. "Sure. I'm guessing we'll be eating there?"

"If that's what you want."

Emma smiled as she put her book away. "That would be nice, Graham."

Both of them wrapped themselves up in their coats and went to the cruiser. Their cheeks turned rosy with the cold as they shut themselves inside the car. The engine growled as Graham turned the key.

The ride to Granny's was mostly quiet, and the windows of stores glowed with amber light. Trees lost their regal coats of scarlet leaves, and turned naked when the wind blew. Graham was right, the town was peaceful. She grew accustomed to the simple routine she had in Storybrooke. It was a strong contrast to the hustle and bustle of Boston.

Graham drove silently, trying to ignore the beautiful presence of the woman next to him. She looked cozy in her soft black pea coat.

Emma looked at Graham. His chestnut hair seemed to glow gold in the orange streetlights. She tilted her head. "Is this your idea of a date?"

Graham glanced at her, trying not to show any emotion. "I thought it was just a sheriff and his deputy out to warm themselves up on a chilly night."

Emma quirked an eyebrow. "Of course."

They finally pulled up to the diner. Graham stepped out of the car and opened Emma's door for her. He ushered her into the building, showing the more chivalrous side of him. He took both of their coats and hung them up on the coat tree near the door.

Emma waited for him, and pointed out a small booth. "Would you like to sit over there?"

"Lead the way," Graham replied.

They both sat down across each other. Upon seeing them take a seat, Ruby strode over to them with a notebook in hand. Her red streak gleamed.

"Hello, Emma and Graham," she said. "Let me guess, regular orders for the both of you, correct? I'll get your drinks back real quick," she said, jotting it down on the pad.

Emma looked at her with a curious stare. "Um... how do you know what we like?"

"I catch on quick," Ruby quipped. She smiled, and made her way to the kitchen.

As they waited for their order, Graham fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt. He didn't imagine this being so...awkward. Fortunately, Ruby soon came back with a tray of two steaming mugs.

"Hot chocolate with cinnamon for Emma, and peppermint tea for Graham," she said, placing the respective cups in front of them.

"Thanks, Ruby. I'll pay the check later," Graham said. Ruby sashayed away, but not before aiming a knowing wink at Emma.

Emma tried hide any hint of emotion on her face. Instead, she wrapped her palms around her mug, letting the warmth seep through her skin. She eyed Graham, who was blowing away the steam from his drink.

"You know, I never took you for someone who liked tea," she said with a hint of surprise in her tone.

Graham took a quick sip before he spoke. "I like sharp taste of it. It's more...refined than coffee," he admitted, the tips of his ears turning pink.

Emma nodded. She took a long drink from her mug; the whipped cream, cinnamon, and cocoa mixing into one sweet, and spicy taste. She licked off the cream from her upper lip.

Graham leaned near her. "You know, I was wondering... why _ do _you like cinnamon on your hot chocolate?" he asked with a soft smile.

Emma smiled back. She looked down at her cup, whipped cream and cocoa swirling together. "It's been a _long _time since I've... told anyone about it," she murmured, tracing the edge of the cup with her finger. She sighed, and a rare feeling of nostalgia coursed through her.

She chuckled as she remembered. " I was four or five, and that year I stayed with the best foster parents- well,_ parent_. It was just my foster mom. Anyway, she treated me so much better than the other families so far: the best of all.

"One day, we went sledding for hours. And when we came back, she made cocoa for the both of us. When she poured my mug, I suddenly blurted out, 'Can I have mine with cinnamon?' I didn't know why, it just...seemed like a good idea," she paused, letting the warm,safe feeling sink in. She continued, "She never questioned it. She always made my cocoa with cinnamon after that."

Graham's eyes softened. She took the last few sips from her cup. From Emma's relaxed posture, he could tell she was savoring the memory, and the drink.

Emma lowered her cup onto the table, looking him in the eyes. She whispered, " She was the closest thing to a mother."

Graham reached out and held her hand in his. Emma looked down and saw their entwined hands.

"Do you have any memories like that, Graham?" she asked tentatively.

"I..." Graham tilted his head in confusion, "I don't remember." Emma nodded sadly.

"It's getting late, we should head home," she said, afraid to ruin the moment. Graham let go of her hand.

"You're right. Come on, we'll head to the station to pick up your car," he said in an agreeing tone. He took the last sip of tea from his cup. Graham got both of their jackets from the coat hooks and helped Emma into hers, much to her chagrin. He paid off the bill with Ruby at the register. The two officers sprinted back to the cruiser, missing the warmth of diner already.

The ride back to the station seemed shorter. Emma's demeanor seemed to be softer, not at all walled-off. Graham glanced over to her once, and thought he heard her sniffle.

When the arrived at the station's lot, Graham walked Emma to her car. Their shoulders nearly brushed together since they were walking so close.

"Well, good night, Emma," Graham said as she opened her car door.

She nodded. She felt bold and took his hand in hers. "Graham? Thanks for the hot chocolate," she said with gratitude.

Graham smiled. "You're welcome," he said with a nod.

Her eyebrows drew together. "There's always time to make more memories, Graham," she reassured, feeling his frustration with his lack of childhood memories.

He nodded again. "I know." Emma smiled. "Thanks for telling me the story." They let go.

They bid farewell, and Emma gazed at his silhouette as she drove away.

Both of them left with pieces of each other in their hearts.

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**A/N: **This is my first story for this fandom, so I apologize for OOC writing that's here. I've always wondered how Emma came to like cinnamon hot chocolate, so this is my way of telling that story with a Gremma twist. Thanks for reading, and please review!-Roxanne


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